


You’re a shooting star I see, A vision of ecstasy

by lessisabore



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Glitter, M/M, im sorry, just having emotions about coachella, not really - Freeform, oh god did i actually write smut??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:37:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lessisabore/pseuds/lessisabore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry makes nick a gift for Coachella.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You’re a shooting star I see, A vision of ecstasy

**Author's Note:**

> Soz, I wrote this during my architecture lecture today and it's my first ever fic sooooo just gonna let it chill here.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Harry freezes mid-sprinkle, hand suspended over the table where he was just laying out the pink glitter he had bought earlier from Tesco. A whole kilogram tub for only 10 quid. He also bought three more tubs in varying colors, but he hid those earlier under the kitchen sink, where they'll stay until another appropriate opportunity comes along to use them. Nick is always lecturing him for buying useless craft supplies in bulk, only to have them take up valuable biscuit storage space. 

Right, Nick. He’s not supposed to be home quite yet. Harry hasn’t even started on the ornamental features of his creation yet, the pink glitter is just a base coat, a blank canvas for the real work of art Harry had planned. 

“Are those pom-poms on the floor?” Nick asks gingerly, edging closer to Harry’s workspace.

Harry frowns down at the floor where they rest by his knees. His masterpiece is spoiled; those pom-poms were going to be the pièce de résistance, just the right amount of pizazz to complete the look.

“It’s your going away present?” Harry says, looking up at Nick, his statement lilting up into a question.

“You’re giving me a pink glitter sun visor to wear to Coachella.” Nick asks, incredulously, laughter in his voice. “Probably the most high fashion music festival on the planet, and I’m going in a home-made cap my boyfriend made me.”

“It’ll protect your nose from the sun!” Harry argues, standing up and brushing the glitter off his chest. Oh, no, never mind, that glitter is clinging on pretty tight, it can just stay there for now. “Plus, it’s like how bumbags are cool again? Like, they went away for a decade, but now they’re back? Sun visor hats can be cool again, too!”

“Bumbags aren’t stylish, Harry.”

“Oh.” Damn, Harry’ll have to return that Yves Saint Laurent bag he bought yesterday. “Well, still, you can’t just hang outside all day and not protect your face, there’s actual sun in California, Nick.”

“Yes, Harold, I know, I remember when you came home last week with sun rash all over your shoulders.” Nick walks over to the kitchen, putting the kettle on before sorting through the cupboards in search of some food. Maybe he’ll have those kale chips Alexa told him to buy. Probably not, though.

“I told you I fell asleep on the patio!” Harry shouts from the couch, attempting to cover up the fact that there’s actually quite a lot of glitter stuck in the rug. Shrugging and standing up, Harry pivots to walk towards the kitchen. Unfortunately, Harry cannot pivot, was never blessed with the graceful skill that is pivoting, so he trips over the coffee table, pushing the tub of glitter onto the floor, and landing into the subsequent pile himself. 

“What was that?” Nick yells from the other side of the wall.

“Nothing!” Harry shouts back, frantically, shoving the glitter under the table. Why did he buy so much? Why was glitter so deceivingly attractive? 

“Harry why did I just find three more tubs of that sparkly crap under th-“ Nick cuts himself off when he walks into the room, finding Harry standing there, his shirt thrown haphazardly onto a blatant mess of glitter on the floor to the side of the coffee table, as well as all over his chest and through his hair. Harry just stands there, hands clutched innocently behind his back, looking like a Liberace crazed vampire. “What.”

“Let’s take a shower!” Harry suggests hurriedly, while Nick continues to helplessly glance back and forth between the mess on the ground and the shimmering expanse of Harry’s chest.

House pride wins out. “Harry, I’ve just had the carpets cleaned after Gellz knocked over the sangria bowl last weekend.” Nick groans, hunching his shoulders and burying his head in his hands. 

He feels hands close around his waist before Harry starts nosing at the gap between his fingers to get access to his face. “’M sorry, just didn’t want your nose to get all peely.” 

Nick sighs but stays still. He wonders how poisonous glitter is to dogs. Better keep Puppy locked in to bedroom until this is mess is dealt with. Harry’s still nosing at his neck when he mumbles, “C’mon, let’s get in the shower, think I’ve got glitter in my bits.”

Nick snorts, despite himself. “Ooh, how intriguing. Gonna whip out your disco stick for me?” 

Harry shuffles them down the hall towards the ensuite, not quite unwrapping his arms from Nick enough to allow for anything more than a waddle. 

“If you pick the glitter out of my hair, I’ll suck you off.”

“Bloody right you will, ruining my floors and then making me pick the glitter off of you like a bloody chimpanzee.” Nick continues to grumble under his breath while stripping out of his clothes, stumbling over his jeans before sliding into the shower after Harry.

Harry tilts his head up to kiss Nick, working his lips slowly before mouthing along his jawline. “So,” he says in between nips to his skin, “do you promise… you’ll wear… my hat?”

Nick groans again, “Can we not talk about the hat? I don’t really want to think about the glitter bomb that just went off in my living room.” 

“Niiiick. Wear my hat.” Harry whines, pulling back and putting his hands on Nick’s shoulders.

“Haaaarry. Suck my cock.” Nick puts his own hands onto Harry’s shoulders and nudges him downward, but Harry doesn’t budge. 

“Please! Come on, it’ll make me feel better that I’m not going if you take it. I also bought you this water bottle that has a clip on the side so you can attach it to your belt, that way you won’t lose it and get sunstroke.”

“Harry, darling, there will be plenty of refreshment stands, I’m sure there will be no shortage of water.” Nick clucks, kissing the side of Harry’s head. For all the times that Harry shows off his old soul, sometimes that soul closely resembles an annoyingly worried mother. “Hey, look, I’ll bring the hat, but no promises Pixie won’t just steal it off me to wear and then post all over instagram.”

“I can make her one too.” Harry murmurs, but it’s lost once Nick kisses him, pushing him against the cold wall, making him squirm between the two solid forces. 

Nick wedges a hand between their bodies and gets a grip on Harry, squeezing when he feels him get thicker. Harry chokes on a breath before pulling Nick even closer to his body, making Nick unable to move his hand where it had begun to stroke Harry. 

“H, ease off, let me get a better angle.” Nick gasps, trying to shimmy out of Harry’s grip, but Harry just holds on tighter and flips them around, Nick’s back now pressed firmly against the wall.

“Just want to take care of you,” Harry breathes as he gets to his knees, “Wish I could come with you to California, would take care of you the whole time.” Harry spares no more breaths on words, wrapping his lips around Nick and inching down his length. 

Nick curses under his breath, keeping his hips against the wall and letting Harry take care of him, no matter the teasing pace. Once he has most of Nick’s cock in his mouth, he wraps his hand around the rest of him and picks up his speed, but only marginally. 

After an agonizing few minutes, and a whispered “Please, babe” from Nick, Harry quickens his pace until he forces Nick to the back of his throat, softly and steadily choking around the head, until the vibrations send Nick joltingly over the edge.

Once Nick’s vision clears a bit, he notices Harry clamber to his feet and press his forehead against Nick’s rising and falling chest. It only takes a few tugs from his own hand before he’s coming onto Nick’s softening prick, breath catching in his throat when it hits.

After a minute of breathing into each other, Nick brushes at Harry’s shoulder. “Can’t believe that glitter is still on, what gets it off, if not water?”

Harry hums against his shoulder, “Think kisses will help it come off. That, or like, acetone, I reckon.”

“Idiot.”

“Besides, I like it. Don’t think I want to take it off yet. Makes me feel like a shiny star.” Harry twists back and forth, letting the light reflect off of the remaining glitter.

“Hmm, but you already are a star, popstar, you can’t be an actual star too, wouldn’t be fair to the rest of us normal folk.”

Harry giggles and presses a quick kiss to Nick’s lips, before backing out of the shower. “Wash my come off of your prick and then let’s order a curry. I’ll go make sure Puppy hasn’t licked up any of the glitter and left any sparkly poos anywhere.”

“Romance lives!” Nick shouts after him before washing the drying spunk off of himself. Romance lives, indeed.


End file.
